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imaginedisish · 2 months

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Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life.

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind.

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway.

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying.

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down.

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle.

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.”

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh.

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back.

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway.

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs.

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed.

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance.

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering.

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself.

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you.

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin.

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it.

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.”

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.”

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something.

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile.

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell.

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall.

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies.

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest.

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!”

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth.

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine.

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you.

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist.

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest.

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him.

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter.

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say.

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes.

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.”

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—”

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.”

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.”

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.”

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down.

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum.

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise.

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks. You, you think.

“Me?” What?

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours.

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing.

Everything is him. Logan.

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you.

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him.

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him.

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.”

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way.

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other.

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest.

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower.

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass.

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes.

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core.

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.”

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life.

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit.

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely.

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement.

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance.

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt.

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out.

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again.

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly.

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you.

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.”

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good.

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper.

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you.

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air.

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence.

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.

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sonarspace · 5 months

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snip, snip, snip

synopsis: giving a trim to your boyfriend turns into something more. wc: 2.7k pairings: choso x reader. geto x reader. nanami x reader. content: MDNI. smut (unprotected sex, cowgirl (choso), bow pose (geto), oral - fem!receiving, fingering, creampie, messy kisses) just lots of nsfw 😭 + not proofread as usual a/n: missed y’all!! have no idea what i wrote but i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. choso kamo

"oww… fuck” you hear choso cuss from the bedroom. “are you okay?” you check in from the bathroom just having finished your night time routine. he walks in rubbing his eye, a tiny pout playin on his lips “i think there’s something in my eye, it hurts,” he whines.

“let me see,” you say. he bends down and moves closer to your face. you notice the whites of his eye are turned a shade of light red, probably from all the rubbing he’s been doing. he hisses as you spot a short strand of hair in his lower lid and pull it out. “it’s hair,” you place it in his palm. “probably from your bangs,” you add on. his pout grows and he stares at the strand in silence for a minute before he asks “can you cut them?”

he sits on a stool in front of the mirror, a bashful smile on his lips. you place a cloth on the floor to catch the hair and wrap another around his neck.

you quickly brush his hair and separate the bangs. he grabs your waist and pulls you in closer when you start cutting his bangs. distracted by the night gown under your robe he starts squirming to get a closer look.

“choso!” you yelp when you feel him kiss over your clothed boob. “sorry,” he bashes his eyelashes at you. “sit still or i’ll mess up” you scold him.

he scoffs in return. you reach up to snip a few stray strands of hair that are in front of his face, and align them with a cute pout of concentration on your face. his eyes remain fixed on you, silently observing your every move, while his heart is filled with an array of intense emotions that overwhelm him. his grip on your waist tightens.

your eyes slowly shift from his freshly trimmed bangs to meet his gaze and a gentle smile curves up the corner of your lips. he pulls you closer — his hand deftly undoes the knot on your robe.

the fabric falls open, revealing a blue silk slip with lace detail covering your cleavage and his breath hitches. your heart begins to race at the anticipation of his next move.

"choso.." you feel his hand inch higher under your slip. you squeeze his shoulders when his finger trace your flimsy panties — a light sheen of your need coats his finger. you unwrap the cloth from around his neck, and he quickly stands up. he taps the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump into his arms.

he walks over to the bed and sits down with you on top. “fuck me,” he whispers as his lips brush over yours. your slip’s moved up and bunched around your thighs as you start grinding on his hardening cock.

he hums into the kiss — satisfied by the little bit of friction. you move a hand to in his hair, tugging at the strands to stop his movements.

he pulls back with a grin. you kiss a path from his jaw down to his neck and suck at the flesh on his throat. he lets out a deep groan as you wrap a hand around his throat and push him to lie down on his back.

you quickly push down his pants and his dick springs out and hits his abdomen. his tip’s a little red with pre-cum leaking. you rub the pre cum up and down his dick — prepping it to be inside you.

his breathing grows erratic and he tries to keep his moans quiet. you lace your fingers with his, near his head and he turns to give it a sweet peck. you both gasp in unison as you slide down his slicked length. his other grips your waist tighter — probably leaving a bruise.

your wetness makes it easy to move up and down his cock. “you can be loud baby,” you groan breathlessly and he immediately lets out a whine as if he was waiting for your permission.

at this angle his cock was hitting all the right spots in you. he wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you down for a messy kiss. his tongue laps at yours and he sucks at your bottom lip before finally letting you go.

he pulls down the straps of your slip still shielding your boobs from his lustful eyes. he gulps at the view from below. silently thanking whatever higher power led you to him and allowed him to experience this moment of utter bliss and pleasure.

you place your hands on his chest and pick up the pace. pussy clamping down on his cock – creating a circle of white around his length.

he notices you slow down as your thighs burn from the movement. “come on, baby. don’t stop now,” he urges you. his hips buck up into yours and you moan in surprise “ahh fuck”. his hands move under your ass to help you keep going.

your head falls into his neck as he keeps fucking into you from underneath. “i’m close” he pants. you bite his shoulder as your orgasm rushes through you, too blissed out to warn him but he notices anyway. his hand moves from under your ass to rubbing your back. soothing you from your high.

and he comes right after with a loud moan of your name. you hum satisfied at the feeling of his cum filling you completely.

suguru geto

he’s sitting on a stool facing the bathroom mirror as you stand behind him, trimming the ends of his hair.

and when you finally move in front of him to cut his front pieces, he keeps trying to put his hand under your shirt. you smack his hand away and he sits there with a pout and you immediately feel bad.

“sorry,” you say meekly. he doesn’t respond instead he looks down at his lap. “suguru,” you call out to him but he ignores you.

“suguru,” you try again but he doesn’t reply. you sigh and continue your task. you move behind him once you’re done and he smiles at you through the mirror, “thank you for the haircut, baby”.

a little confused at the change in his mood, you lean down to give him a quick peck when he looks up at you expectantly. his tongue pokes out and traces your lips and over your chin. you giggle when his tongue moves towards the underside of your jaw. you walk back to the bedroom and he shrugs off the hair and follows you. he spreads your legs and lays atop you. his tongue meshes with yours and your boobs buck up into his chest. he smiles against your lips, pulling back to admire your sprawled out figure.

he bunches up your shirt and places it in your mouth. "can you stay like this for me?" he asks in a hushed tone. you nod and he laughs under his breath as he hears a muffled yes. he places kisses over the expanse of your body and moves between your legs.

he holds eye contact as he pushes your panties to the side. you shudder when he spreads your lips and inserts a finger in you. his gaze moves down to your hole sucking him in desperately.

he leans to peck your clit once and then twice. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in slowly as he inserts a second finger into your needy cunt.

one second you’re whining at the way his mouth is making you feel and then before you can register the retraction of his mouth and fingers, you yelp a surprised whimper when you feel his hand come down at the flesh of your ass.

as you come down from the shock of the slap on your ass, you realize that he’s got you laying on your stomach.

you guess you should’ve known smacking his hand away earlier would have its consequences. however you didn’t mind this. his hand rubs soothingly at the reddened skin of your ass before another smack resounds throughout the room and you groan in slight pleasure.

“you like that, huh?” a lilt to his voice. “harder,” you mumble into the sheets. and he abides with your request. after all he’s gotta give you, whatever you ask for.

after two more hard spanks he moves over your legs. his hands rub at the flesh of your ass while he lines himself up with your hole. he rubs his cock head at your glistening pussy before he pushes in.

you gasp when you feel his hands pushing your legs up to hold himself steady as he starts fucking into you from behind. he keeps up a fast and hard pace that has your brain turning into mush. he gently puts your legs back down and you whimper at the mix of pleasure and pain you feel from having your legs up for so long.

he grabs your hips and slides a pillow under your stomach. you peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. his chest covered in a sheen of sweat and his breathing hard . you reach a hand behind which he immediately intertwines with his own.

he leans down on top of you, his weight heavy and comforting as he slows down the pace of his thrusts. your hair’s sticking to your face and your lip’s parted with drool slipping out of the side of your mouth. he chuckles at your fucked out state and gives you a quick peck.

he shifts his weight onto his other hand as he moves your joint fingers under your stomach and picks you up so you’re hovering over the sheets. “close sugu- ah” you moan as the angle has the head of his cock pressing against your g-spot. he kisses you deeply – tangling tongues together. you lull your tongue out every so slightly and he takes it as his cue to suck on it.

your tongue between his lips as he bobs his head and his thrusts have you turning into a blubbering mess of hmph’s and oh’s.

“go ahead and come for me, pretty girl”. he groans lowly in your ear. a rush of pleasure washes over you and you slump forward in his grip. he lets you lay back down on your stomach. he slows down his pace even more so you can ride out your high comfortably.

finally he pulls out and you turn around to lay on your back. his head falls back as he pumps his cock a few times and releases over your abdomen with a loud moan of your name.

kento nanami

you grow tired after hearing nanami complain several times about his recent grown out beard. “they gave me a weird look,” he huffs. “do you think it makes me look weird?” he asks you seriously.

“i think it looks sexy. but if you want i can make it lighter for you.” you offer and he nods promptly.

so now you’re sitting on the bathroom counter with nanami between your legs and his arms placed on either side of you.

he hands you the trimmer with a shorter guard, allowing you to trim most of his beard but still maintain some facial hair. you turn on the trimmer and start from his ears and work your way down with a gentle but firm pressure. with unwavering focus, you move the trimmer under his nose, over the corners of his mouth and under his chin as the hair falls to the floor.

he keeps his eyes on you the entire time. the way you squint your eyes to focus better. the way your face muscles tense when you reach higher. your lips parting slightly when you move the trimmer under his nose. his heart fills with love at seeing you do this for him with so much care and attention.

you finish it off with a clean edge and pull away to grab a razor. you get back to work and apply a lather of shaving cream and remove any hair you couldn’t get with the trimmer. you pull back and admire your handy work, “how does it look?” you ask him with a sweet grin.

in return he kisses you. you squeal as the shaving cream covers your face. you both laugh as you help each other wash off the shaving cream.

you wipe your face and then his with a towel and he feels overwhelmed with the love he has for you. he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed.

he flops you down on the bed and wastes no time in ridding you off your clothes. he quickly moves between your legs and slides off your shorts. he sees the confusion on your face and grins “gotta reward my sweet doll for such a good job, don’t i?”

he pulls your legs over his shoulders and gets to work. you gasp when you feel his freshly trimmed beard between your legs. he starts by tracing your outer labia with his tongue and moving to your inner labia. his tongue pokes under your clitoral hood and then presses over your clit.

your hole still untouched. he teases his tongue around it until he hears you whine “kento, please”. he dips his tongue in and you’re almost instantly clenching around his tongue. “oh, she’s needy today,” he speaks to your pussy in a hoarse tone.

he replaces his tongue by inserting two fingers into you. plunging in and out, curving slightly to push against that spot. his tongue moves over your clit in languid teasing licks, making you squirm and tighten your grip on his hair.

“stay still sweetheart,” he tuts at you. having had enough of his teasing, you tighten your legs around his shoulders and pull his head further into your cunt.

with a grip on his hair, you start grinding against his face bringing yourself closer to your high. he removes his fingers from your cunt and dips his tongue once more. excited to have you clenching his tongue as you cum.

“ahh ken, fuck i’m so close,” you mewl indirectly asking him to help you. his thumb alternates between rubbing circles and flicking your nub. soon you cum with a scream of his name. almost suffocating him between your legs, but he doesn’t mind.

he continues lapping at your cunt as you come down from your orgasm. you shudder as his tongue moves over your sensitive nub once more. he sucks your clit into his mouth, on a mission to make you cum again.

your hips grind against him involuntarily but this time he holds you down with a bruising grip. his head bobs as he continues sucking and lapping at your clit.

he holds your gaze as your expression changes to tethering the edge of overstimulation. his favorite view. his free hand moves over to your boobs – massaging and teasing your nipples.

you grab his hand move it higher and up to your lips. he squeezes your cheek once and then you’re poking out your tongue and licking his palm. you hold his hand steady and suck in the two fingers that were in your cunt earlier.

you hum around his fingers and try to match the pace of his tongue on your clit. you look into his eyes, ignoring your gag reflex and push his fingers further into your mouth — you decided to add a third finger.

nanami pulls away and bites your inner thigh as he grinds into the bed trying to get some relief. oh how he wishes you were sucking his cock instead. he plunges his tongue into your hole again and moans at the thought – making your hole spasm around his tongue.

unable to contain himself, nanami, continues bucking his hips into the bed as you keep sucking his fingers greedily.

your second orgasm washes over you and you almost bite down on his fingers at the blissful pleasure. as if on cue he creams his pants and groans into your thigh.

“can’t believe you’ve made me cream my pants more than once,” he chuckles from his place on your sprawled out thigh. he peppers kisses as he moves up your body, purposefully rubbing his freshly trimmed beard causing you to giggle sweetly. he grabs your face and gives you a bruising but loving kiss.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

a/n: reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated!

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yueebby · 6 months

Text

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom.

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy.

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap.

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in.

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats. honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru.

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room.

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired.

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi.

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.”

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence. his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!”

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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satoruhour · 1 year

Text

AFTER MISSION HOURS

a/n: mb guys, i cant escape the soft dom allegations i just love it too much. but gojo is a little rougher in this. wrote this as a result of the latest jjk ep and uuuhhhhhmmmm imma need him to be angry more CAAUUUUSEEEEE .....

warnings: sorta rough dom!gojo, fem!reader, face-fucking, deep-throating, oral (m receiving), multiple rounds, unprotected sex, spitting on your pussy, praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, creampie / breeding kink, aftercare and cute gojo at the end, n*sfw under the cut

“s— satoru?” you’re taken aback when he stalks through the door, almost making a dent in the wall from how hard he slams it open and the darkness of the front door light does his eyes justice in showing just how bright they are. albeit a little less blue and swirling with something darker and you’re taken aback when he finally walks up to you and seizes your wrist.

“’toru— you should go see shoko—!” you’re surprised when he whirls you around and nods his head towards the big sofa wordlessly and while you’re not a stranger to gojo’s outbursts when you’re arguing about how he needs to value his life more or when he’s uptight from a stressful meeting with the higher-ups, but never like this. frankly, you’ve never even had to courage to tell him all the times he’s stared at you with hooded eyes and a frown etched onto his face, you had to hold yourself back from jumping him.

but now he’s taking matters into his own hands.

you yelp in shock as he pushes you onto your hands and knees and you look back at how he kneels in front of your slowly soaking underwear. gojo plants his hands on your ass and kneads, bringing his nose right up to your pussy lips and licks a stripe over the fabric.

“so wet jus’ from that? fuckin’ slut,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear and you’re ashamed to admit that you like it a little too much when you let out a small whine unknowingly. “oh? like it when i call you a little slut?”

he makes sure to spit out the last part and his anger and stress lowers a little just seeing how you wiggle your butt closer to him and a smile spreads on your face. there’s a little twinkle in your eye when you see the way your boyfriend’s hands make their way down to his pants but he stops short, larger hands wrapping around your waist to flip you over. thank god the couch was big, and he inches his way up your body.

“c’mon. take my cock out,” he’s staring at you from above, a sight you weren’t used to, rather more accustomed to having him below you but this new change sends chills right down to your core. you tug at his pants impatiently and satoru watches with a close eye how you scramble to pull down his underwear and the way your lips part slightly. gojo hums softly when you start stroking it to full hardness and the awe on your face is just so adorable.

“suck.” you didn’t need to be told twice, bringing his angry weeping tip right to your mouth to suckle the pre-cum out of it and your eyes flick up just as he smirks. your mouth’s so full of him, moaning around his length as you bob your head in the uncomfortable position. “all ya good for, huh? made just f’r suckin’ me off.”

this gojo was miles off from your loving boyfriend but you loved it all the same, nodding and hollowing your cheeks and using your hands for the places you can’t reach. your mouth and hands were no comparison to your tight cunt but they’re second best, so warm and pliant. you stare up at him before coming off and drool drips down the side of your mouth.

“fuck my mouth, satoru,” your pleading eyes are too much for him, both hands still stroking him non-stop as you mix in your saliva with his pre-cum, lewd noises filling the hall. “please?”

gojo simply laughs, a laugh that definitely says i should do this more, “sure, baby.”

and while his stress is immediately gone from seeing you beg, he’s not any more gentle as he lines his cock along your lips and holds onto the arm rests of the couch and fucks your face. the first thrust into your mouth, he moans out loud before his hips move quicker and quicker and you have hardly any time to adjust. your fingers squeeze his thighs with each ram into you, tip kissing the back of your throat you swear you can feel him in your stomach. you’ve learned to hold your breath even when your nose meets with his untrimmed pubes, eyes never breaking contact as he slams into you.

“mouth s’good— s-shit . .” gojo chuckles breathlessly when he hears you gurgle on his fat cock, feeling your tongue massage the base of his dick. the obscene gawking noises only gets louder when he pushes himself right to the limit, obsessed with how your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can make little noises around him. he gives a little quick glance to see your playing with yourself and he swears under his breath, pulling his hips back and letting you breathe. “filthy girl. jus’ need me so bad.”

“y—yeah satoru. wanna take your mind off . . work,” you mumble, eyes focused on how his cock twitches and leaks pre-cum from his tip and you just wanna make him feel so good — you’re not even that big on the whole housewife thing, but the way gojo treats you? you’d be on your knees all day if you could, taking his warm cum down your throat.

“yeah? cute lil thing you are.” he taunts, bending his body so he could be inches from your face even as you continue pumping him and he’s trying not to lose composure. his eyes bore holes into your face from how hard he stares at you, breath shaky as your hands move under his jujutsu uniform and all over his upper body.

“use me.” it comes so abruptly even you are surprised, knowing how you liked to be more passive in your sex life and still, this is your first step out of your meekness. “take it all out on me, satoru.”

gojo’s chest heaves and he silently pulls away to face your cunt, removing your panties and he really wants to give you everything slowly like he likes it. he wants to see you cry as he rocks into you with gradual grinds but when you tell him something as dirty as that — he’s doing anything but that.

“haah . .” satoru sighs at your clenching pussy, dragging his tip up and down, up and down your folds and just seeing your juices just flow and flow and he’s hypnotised, “careful what you wish for, darling girl.”

you barely have time to register his warning before he slams into you and you’re screaming. it’s easy from how wet you are and it takes a small while as you adjust to his thrusts and gojo uses your body like a ragdoll. he hovers over you as your legs are limp and unsure of where they should go. this little dilemma isn’t lost on satoru, grabbing your ankles and holding them as his hips move relentlessly and this has your hips lifting off the sofa; he easily reaches your g-spot like this.

“satoru— fucking g-god! satoruuu . . !” you moan at the roughness of his ministrations, thinking you were free from the assault when he lets your ankles rest on his shoulders but all he does is spit on your pussy. a perfect shot and he rubs it in with his thumb and it has you whining out loud at the sudden stimulation, “t-too much!”

“you can take it.” gojo simply mumbles, thumb drawing timed circles on your clit as he watches his cock disappear into you. “can do it when you’re clenchin’ around me this hard.”

gojo grins, sickly.

“ah! my pretty little slut did it again.” the names were an exact opposite from the softer praise you were used to, and still they have you biting your lips and giggling in between moans, letting him fuck you like the cocksleeve you are.

“breed me, ’toru. need it—!”

“that right?” gojo slams into you at the speed of an animal, clearly still high-strung from the mission and notices how you still are making sure he cums first. the thought makes his hips stutter paired with seeing your doe eyes as little pants leave your mouth and he needs to pull away from your clit to hold onto your thighs before he cums and cums and cums. your back arches at the feeling and a soft moan is heard from your lips at how it starts to fill you up.

gojo wastes no time to pull out and see his cum spill out of you before he’s doing a circular motion with his finger and you’re lying on your stomach like a good girl. you melt when you feel him scoop it all up, pushing the escaping cum right back into you and your head sinks into the cushions while your ass only pushes more into him.

“hol’ on, baby, got another load for ya,” this thrust is wet. you can basically hear his cum struggle to stay in you to the point where his cock is coated in a thin layer of white and you can only moan out for him from below. he shuts you up but pressing you deeper into the sofa, a harsh hand on your lower back and your ass sticks out more.

“thaaat’s it . .” gojo smirks, licking his lips as he watches your ass ripple from the contact. each drag of his cock into your warm, cute pussy, his eyes are there, and each spurt of your arousal and his cum as his pelvis meets yours, he’s searing it into his brain, “this what you mean by using you?”

you’re murmuring “yeah”’s into the sofa, knees and arms suffering from fabric burn from how much your body was moving, and yet his throbbing cock is just too good. your mouth falls open when satoru reaches around to rub at your clit again and your hands fly to hold onto his wrists, “oh— right there, ’toru . .!”

it’s all too much for you, the previous load of cum spilling onto the couch below you, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and the sloppiness of your pussy that it’s even having gojo moving aimlessly into you, rather just rutting in you messily.

“g’na cum again— f-fuck,” gojo swears as his fingers on your clit are more frantic to try to match his pace while he props a leg up onto the sofa and you thrash against his hold because his tip brushes against your cervix so good that you’re convulsing in the next second, whining and mewling as you cum all over his cock.

he can feel your cum and the sorcerer moans, switching to short, impatient thrusts into your tight cunt and his grunts merges with calls of your name, eyes scrunched up as he shoots his second orgasm into you. you try to grab at something as there’s the familiar feeling of his tip releasing ribbons of cum deep into your womb, but you come up short, settling rather to dig your nails into fabric.

“take my load like the cock drunk whore you are,” gojo grunts out lowly, grinding his hips into you just to get his last drops of cum into you and he has the audacity to massage at your lower back while your body’s still reeling from the intense high and yes, his anger is quelled a little but each time you’re with gojo satoru there’s always surprise ambushing you from every corner.

you gasp when he pulls you up and pulls you against his chest, moving his hips in an experimental thrust right into you and you’re sagging over his strong arms that hold you up, whining incoherently as you struggle to stay awake.

“alright, alright,” satoru laughs softly, pressing a peck to your cheek, “needa thank my baby for letting me use her.”

you barely manage a smile, turning back to him with a raise of your eyebrow, “can still go . . ’toru . .”

he hums, and pulls you off of him slowly, dick jumping just a little when he hears a choked moan leave you at the feeling of his cum dripping from your cunt but he steels himself, “hm, don’t think so, princess.”

you pout, immediately turning around to hug him close to you and gojo’s heart flutters at your cuteness. he sighs at your adamant stance, easily standing up with you wrapped around him and carrying the two of you to the master bathroom.

“let’s clean up and we’ll see if you’re awake enough to go again, alright?” satoru whispers to you before turning on the shower, and later when he’s stuck in the toilet tidying up his pubes (he saw how uncomfortable you were earlier) and he’s letting you take the bed first, there’s a perplexity and small fear that overcomes the male at the lack of answer when he calls out to you.

but gojo comes out to you slipping in and out of consciousness with only his shirt whilst hugging his pillow and he smiles to himself, getting dressed as quickly as possible and slipping in beside you. a soft smile is still plastered on his face when you naturally curl into his warmth and mumble out a soft i still had stamina, satoru.

“shh, go to sleep, baby,” satoru tugs you closer into him and he wonders if there’s any way to love you even more than he already does, “we have all the time in the world, silly girl.”

shibuya incident? tf is that?? never happened bitch

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kennedybaby · 7 months

Text

they're talking.

talking as if they hadn't been taking turns on you for hours, folding you into different positions and buried their cocks between your puffy folds as your freshly-manicured nails rakes their back. "jesus," you took a sharp breath, stomach caves in slightly as dick pushes your knees up to your chest, easily slipping his fat cock into you. you can hear the way he gulped as your dripping cunt throbs around him, his eyes shuts tight, "i swear..." the rest of his sentence grow incoherent as dick leaves sloppy kisses on your neck.

"wait, dick—" your words were cut off when jason slapped the tip of his cock against your swollen lips.

"hush." jason mumbled under his breath, eyes narrowed when you poked your tongue and lazily runs along the vein on his length. "sorry, princess." dick whispers, his lips forming a small smile. "a bet is a bet, and you lose so..." you rolled your eyes at the way dick pretends to empathise you but he's clearly too pussy drunk to even form something to make you feel better.

dick moved his hips slowly, face buried into your neck. big, calloused palms easily lifts your hips up to bury his cock deeper as he lets out a deep groan. "...so you gotta back it up." jason continues, pushing his tip into your mouth as he watches you instinctively puckered your cheeks and bobs your head up and down with his fingers tangled with your locks to keep your head in place. "fuuuck, startin' to think you purposely lose from how good you're slobbering all over my cock." the both of them chuckled as dick playfully nudges jason in his thigh and clicks his tongue.

"don't be mean." jason scoffs at dick's words.

"i'm not. look at her, she's not even denying it." dick turned his eyes back on you, watching as your eyes gradually gets heavy with your mouth filled with jason's dick as you subconsciously rolls your hips against his own.

"guess she's not."

#dc smut #jason todd imagines #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x you #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine

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yieldtotemptation · 1 month

Text

RITUAL ft. Yujin

yujin x male reader smut

7k words

Let’s be clear: you’re well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.

For you, it’s just a job. You’ve been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.

But for her, for Yujin, it’s her career. Her life. Her everything.

And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can’t let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that’s the fucking point.

“How much time do we have?” Yujin’s lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.

“We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago,” you remind her. “We’re gonna miss soundcheck.”

“It’ll be fine.” Yujin’s unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn’t freeing your cock from its denim prison. “They’ll wait for me. They always do.”

There’s that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can’t blame her at all for it.

What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.

It’s one of the many things you’ve learned about her over the past few weeks.

Well one of the few that don’t concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.

“Oh, it’s so perfect.” Yujin’s seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn’t stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. “I’d say this is worth being late for.”

You’ve got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: “Yeah, but if we’re late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired.”

Yujin scoffs at that. “Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it.”

Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you’re not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don’t seem pertinent at this moment.

Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.

You’d probably give her the world if she asked.

She’d happily settle for your dick.

Her hand’s moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”

“See?” Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that’s graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. “I’m always right, aren’t I?”

Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that’s become so familiar over the past week—quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.

Yujin’s had plenty of practice, after all—on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that’s now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.

And to think it all started because she asked you to help her ‘calm her nerves’.

Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.

Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.

You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life—staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it’s overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.

She’s undeniable—you know you’ve spoilt her. You’ve let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.

But you’re also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you’d be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.

“Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that,” you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.

Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she’s wringing out.

“So fucking—” you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, “pretty.”

Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"

You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she’s milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.

You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.

Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.

Whatever it is, it has Yujin’s other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.

“And what about this outfit?” She asks, oh-so-innocently. “You think the fans will like it?”

“Yujin,” you say, like she doesn’t already know the very obvious answer. You’ve seen her in it all—tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin’s a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. “You look fucking incredible, as always.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

“I heard a ‘but’,” Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it’s her favourite toy. “Like: ‘but the shorts are too short, and everyone’s gonna see my cheeks when I bend over’.”

A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you’ve had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.

“Or is it: ‘but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out’?”

She’s drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.

“Or maybe it’s: ‘the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you’d much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"

Yeah, that’s more like it.

You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you’d love to. But Yujin’s too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.

“But unfortunately, there’ll be none of that, drummer boy.” Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. “Can’t have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?”

There’s a challenge there, a test to see if you’ll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she’s right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there’ll be plenty of time for that later.

You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. “Seriously?”

Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. “Can’t ruin the make-up either,” she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.

“So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?” You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that’s framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.

“Now you’re learning.”

So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin’s sweet torture. It’s maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin’s slow strokes. “And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever.”

Yujin’s eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. “I’m sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer’s fashion choices,” she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.

You feign injury. “Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing.”

“Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?” Yujin’s thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that’s both infuriating and incredibly hot.

“You’re going to get it later for that one,” you warn, your hand curling into a fist.

“Oh, I know.”

Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that’s beaded there over your cockhead. And there’s a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she’s getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn’t be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.

“Look how big you are for me, daddy.”

There’s that word, that sweet, sweet ‘daddy’.

The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it’s been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.

“Look how big you are in my tiny hand.” She’s got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. “You love it when I jerk you like this, don’t you, daddy?”

‘Daddy’ again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.

There’s another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.

You swallow down the groan that’s building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it’s taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.

“Don’t hold back, daddy,” Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. “I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum.”

She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.

“That’s it,” she’s overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, “tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me.”

And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you’re deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. “You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot,” you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”

Yujin’s strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she’s pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?

You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she’s nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, “You’re desperate for my cunt, aren’t you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?”

“Yujin,” you grit out, and you’re holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, “I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won’t be able to fucking move, let alone dance.”

And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. “So do it, daddy.”

Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you’re off to the races.

You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.

Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She’s all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.

While she’s distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she’s done to you.

Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She’s on your time now, you’ve got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she’s put you through.

“Look at this,” you’re in her ear now, taunting, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”

Yujin’s cheeks burn red, and she’s pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. “Of course I am. I can’t help it,” she’s a little breathless, a little shaky, “I need it.”

“You’re so beautiful,” your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Please,” Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. “Please, fuck me now.”

You can’t resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you’re pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.

There’s a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone’s going to hear it, someone’s going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that’ll be it for the both of you.

But really, fuck all of that.

Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.

Fuck everything that isn’t inside this stall, that isn’t Yujin’s tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn’t the way she’s shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.

There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she’s begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.

Yujin’s never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "

Her walls clamp down around you, she’s already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You’re gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.

“Yes—that’s what I fucking need.” Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn’t enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.

Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her—each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there’s anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.

It’s the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she’s made just for you, like she’s never been fucked this way before, will never be again.

(Even though you have. Even though you will.)

Each time is like the first, you’re discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.

And Yujin knows it.

There’s a need to make her feel it, and there’s her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It’s almost too much to resist.

But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out—

“Gah—God—fuck—”

Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.

“Fuh—fuck—yes—right there—right—fucking—there—”

She’s chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you’re giving her, everything she’s needs, everything she deserves. You’re tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.

You dare to snake a hand under her top, you’re not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of what’s underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.

Yujin’s moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it’s a hard little nub.

“Oh fuck yes—touch me. You love touching me, don’t you?” She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. “You fucking love my body.”

It’s the damn truth—these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven’t found an inch you didn’t immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she’s been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.

“Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that.”

“You’re so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine.”

You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It’s the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she’s the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.

So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you’re like this, when you’re all mine.” You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. “I’m going to cum so hard for you, princess.”

There’s the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.

Yujin’s grinning, knowing she’s the one keeping you occupied, knowing it’s her cunt that you’re buried in, that’s not letting you go.

“If only they knew,” she’s giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), “if only they know how good you’re fucking me right now. They won’t have a fucking clue, will they?”

“Such a fucking tease, Yujin.”

She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, “Who, me?”

“Yes, you, you little slut,” you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. “You know exactly what you’re doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you’re forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they’ll never have.”

The truth makes her shiver against you. “They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are.”

There’s a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she’s going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.

And you’re going to be the one to release it.

You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.

You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.

“That feels so—fuck,” Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. “Only you—only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me—fuck—fuck me like this.”

“Whenever I want, any time I want,” you’re telling her, promising her, even though it’s more likely to be the opposite. That it’s Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she’s bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.

“They’d be so—gah—so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me—how much they want me,” she’s straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. “I see it—read it in places they think I don’t look.”

She’s lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.

“They call me a slut, a whore, but that’s not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you,” Yujin repeats, “I’m only a slut for you.”

There’s an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she’s forced to carry a part of you inside her when she’s on stage.

“Yours to use,” Yujin taunts. “To fuck, to fill...”

Jesus.

“To break.”

Fucking.

“Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair—fuck—my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you’ve left on me, with all your cum—gah—all over me.”

Christ.

It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you’re sure it’s all just part of the game, another button Yujin’s pressing for her own thrill… right?

“Then everyone would know—everyone would know that it’s you—that you’re the one that’s fucking my brains out when no one else is watching.”

You’re all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.

And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.

“Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just—kiss me, now.”

“You said—”

But Yujin’s already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She’s got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she’s trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.

Now that you’ve got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you’ve been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.

You’re getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It’s game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She’s a beautiful, chaotic mess—so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.

The separation barely lasts a second, you’re lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.

This is the real show—Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.

“Daddy—” Yujin starts, and ends, as you’re inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.

Just one hard thrust and you see it—it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.

She’s close, and you’re not far behind.

“Please.”

It’s barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.

But you hear it, and it’s all you need.

It’s her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you’re taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.

“Please, fuck me.” There it is again, louder now. “Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours.”

It’s every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again—make me yours.

You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin’s cunt pulsing around you, but there’s no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“Please,” she’s biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, “say my name.”

“Yujin,” you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. “Yujin, I’m so fucking close.”

The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you’re hammering into Yujin’s tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. “Cum for me daddy, cum for me.”

But it’s her, it’s Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she’s nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she’s just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—daddy, I can’t—it’s so—”

It’s all there across her face, all in the way she’s shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.

“So good—you’re so good—you’re so—fuck—fuck—cum—cumming—"

Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t seen it countless times before, if you didn’t know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.

But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn’t your cock.

“So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess.”

“God, fuck—daddy!”

It’s the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she’s already engraved on your back.

And then the silence comes, and that’s the real killer.

Yujin’s always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums—when she loses herself on your cock—it’s like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.

You know what she wants to say—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—know what she wants to tell you—thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you—and it’s your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.

And then she falls apart.

So beautifully, so perfectly.

But you’re not done yet.

Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin’s still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.

She’s leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can’t quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.

“I’m all yours, daddy.”

It’s a trigger she’s been waiting to pull—the moment she says it, you let go.

There’s no holding back anymore, you’ve been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it’s no use. You’re going to cum, the only question is, where.

You can’t shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll—your fuck doll.

But not now, not today.

So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin’s nodding, teasing “deeper, deeper, please,” begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.

It’s your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that’s been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.

You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that’s all the warning you get before you’re cumming, rushing Yujin’s greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.

“Daddy, daddy—daddy—yes!”

It’s an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you’ll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.

“So good, so fucking good inside me—all yours, all yours—"

It’s a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.

Yujin’s the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.

A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there’s just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.

“Thank you, daddy,” Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it’s like a knife twisting in your chest.

“Always.”

And slowly, carefully, you’re pulling out of her, even though she’s still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.

She reads your mind, “You really made a fucking mess of me.”

“I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility.”

Yujin pouts, makes sure you’re watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. “This is all you, daddy.”

She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she’s slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you’re watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.

That sound she makes, that little “Mmm” of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.

“Cumslut,” is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.

She corrects you. “Your cumslut.”

And then a switch is flipped, and she’s putting herself back together.

Yujin’s graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she’s just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she’s not really touching anything, as if she’s floating.

She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you’re just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she’s just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.

You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can’t be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.

She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck—all evidence of you.

And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she’s got it all under control, like you haven’t ruined her, not really. Not yet.

“Well, that’s something,” she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she’s aiming for.

But then she’s got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.

“How do I look?” She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.

“Like you’ve just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly.”

That makes her laugh. “Good.”

She’s heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.

There’s that look in her eyes again.

One you’ll be revisiting once the show’s over and the doors are closed.

“I’ll take off first,” she says, tying her pigtails back in place. “Wouldn’t want to make it too obvious.”

You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. “Good luck out there.”

And there’s that smile. That smile that’s going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That’s going to make you fall in love with her, if you’re not careful. “Don’t need it,” she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. “I got you, daddy.”

#kpop smut #yujin smut #ive smut #male reader

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evie-sturns · 3 months

Text

overstimulated - Matt Sturniolo

summary: where you overstimulate matt to the point where he can’t walk anymore.

contains: smut, sub!matt, overstimulation, slight humiliation, mocking, teasing, use of safe word.

————————————🎀————————————-

i don’t even know how matt and i got in this position, but right now i’m sitting on his lap, pinning him down as his erection pokes into my thigh.

“please?” he whispers shakily, his pale cheeks a cherry red.

i trace my fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants, earning a soft whimper from him.

he’s been desperately horny this whole day, constantly clinging to me, but i’ve been too busy.

i slowly rock my hips against the clear bulge on his lap, my clothed cunt rubbing against his sweatpants.

his head tips back, “oh god- don’t do this to me” he sighs

“dont do what?” i grin, reaching my hand down and tracing the outline of his dick through his pants.

“you know- ‘m gonna cum in my pants if you keep doing that” he says barely above a whisper.

“that would be pathetic, wouldn’t it sweetheart?” i say, cupping matt’s jaw and making him look up at me.

he nods, squeezing his eyes shut. i wrap my warm hand around his dick through his pants, squeezing lightly.

“oh my fuck-“ he whines, rutting his hips up into my hands.

he clutches the bedsheets beside him with his veiny hands, trying to resist his movements.

“look at you, all whiny, don’t even have your dick out yet.” i scoff, matt nods frantically,

“-‘m sorry!!” his breathing picks up.

i feel his dick twitch in my hand as i continue to rub the fabric over it, before a loud groan escapes his red lips, raw from being bitten.

and he finishes in his pants.

a large damp patch is obvious right under my hand as matt’s hands cover his embarrassed face.

i let out a small laugh, “poor thing.”

he shakes his head, “i couldn’t help it, i really tried!” he states with a small pout.

“yeah? now your gonna be sensitive for the rest of this.” i say, matt’s eyes widen

“what- more?” he breathes,

“you thought we were done?” i taunt him, pulling my shirt off of my body.

i reach down for his pink shirt, text lays across the fabric saying ‘i need a kiss’.

i tug it off of him, laying it on the matress beside us.

goosebumps travel up his skin from the cold air as he looks up at me with pleading eyes.

i stand up off his lap and tug down my pyjama shorts, leaving me fully revealed for him.

his eyes roam over my body.

“you’re so pretty.” he sighs, clutching the sheets beside him again.

i smile at him before crawling back onto his lap, i look down infront of me, he’s hard again.

i tug down his sweatpants to his thighs, before pausing my movements.

his eyebrows furrow, i just sit comfortably on his lap, waiting for him to start begging.

he fidgets with his short nails as he avoids eye contact,

he’s never usually this submissive, quite the opposite, i guess he’s not used to having to wait.

“please?” he finally speaks up, his voice husky.

“please what.” i reply instantly.

he bucks his hips up slightly, his dick hitting my stomach.

i push his stomach down, placing him back on the bed.

“use your words.” i tell him, staring into his eyes.

he shakes his head, “that’s embarrasing-“ he starts, but i instantly cut him off.

“if it’s so embarrassing then i’ll leave you here, all needy and nobody will be here to get you off, would you like that?”

he shakes his head, “no- no! i just.. ‘just need you!”

“matt that’s not clear enough, tell me exactly what you want from me.” my voice is stern, seeing how far i can push him.

“i want you on- on my dick.” he speaks quietly,

“yeah? then what.” i reply,

“then- then i want you to ride me.” he says, his eyes travelling everywhere but mine.

i run my hand through his hair, “there we go, wasn’t so hard to use your words wasn’t it?”

he nods,

i grab his jaw, “i want you to keep looking at me okay?” my tone is softer now,

i take his length in my hand and pump his cock a few times.

“oh-“ he stammers, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time through his squinted eyes.

his hair sticks to his forehead, and his abs tense.

i run my thumb over his tip, he gasp lightly, gripping the sheets harder.

“you’re doing so well, so good for me.” i praise him, continuing to run my hand up and down his length, squeezing slightly as i go higher up.

“thank- thank you-“ he squeezes out breathlessly.

his legs shake slightly as his orgasm comes on, spurts of white hit his stomach.

his jaw hangs open slightly as he lets out strings of moans.

i don’t waste time to sit up properly, hovering myself above his sensitive tip.

i run his cock through my folds, his eyes spring open. “i can’t! ‘m to sensitive-“ he pleads,

“i know you can do it for me matt,” i whisper with a warm smile.

he shakes his head, his hands find their way to my bare hips, he grips tightly for dear life.

i slowly sink down onto his dick, a strained groan escapes his lips as he digs his finger nails into the plush of my skin.

“i’m gonna cum too soon, that’s- that’s embarrassing” he stammers, squirming slightly on the mattress.

“that’s okay, you’re okay matt” i assure him through sharp breathes as i continue to bounce on his cock.

the sound of skin slapping along with matt’s strangled whimpers fill the room, his eyes are scrunched shut and his brunette locks are messily laid across his flushed face.

my pace picks up, matt sinks his top teeth into his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to silence his pathetic noises.

“so close already? you already came twice tonight.” i scoff, which tips matt over the edge

his legs judder as his back arches off the bed.

he frantically grips the pillows beside him as he finishes, his warm seed coating my insides.

i don’t stop riding him, chasing my own orgasm.

he winces with pained moans, “too much! too much-“ his voice cracks.

i don’t stop, matt knows we have a safe word.

he shifts himself below me, his arms twisting as he tries to squirm under me.

“s-stop- stop i’m too- too sensitive!” he squeezes out.

i shake my head, strings of groans exiting my mouth as i clench around him, signalling my upcoming orgasm.

“red- red” the safe word falls from his mouth, making my heart skip a beat.

i instantly pull off of him, my juices coating his dick, even dripping onto his pelvis.

i look at matt, a few tears roll down his cheeks.

my eyes widen, “hey- hey don’t cry, i’m sorry sweetheart are you okay?” i ask, flopping down ontop of him and wrapping my arms around him.

“no- i’m fine just intense, i-i’m not sad or anything” he says shakily with a small laugh.

“i’m sorry baby.” i say, squeezing his waist tight as i hug him.

“don’t apologise- tha-that was so hot.” he mutters.

i hover above his tear stained face, i reach my hands down and wipe away his tears.

“i promise i’m not crying- just sensitive.” he laughs, i giggle in response before standing up off of him.

i look down at him on the bed,

what a sight.

i clench my thighs together as i look down at him, he’s flopped messily across the matress, his arms and legs sprawled out different directions.

his face is a deep red, and his hair is stuck to his sweaty face. his lips are raw and bright red,

and finally he’s coated in his release, white streaks painted across his tummy and chest.

i just admire him, “jesus fuck- matt you don’t understand what you’re doing to me right now.” i whisper

he smiles in response,

“can- can i please take a polaroid of you?” i ask shyly, “just for me to keep.” i follow up.

he grins with an eyebrow quirk, “finnneee…”

i clap before running over to my closet and pulling out my polaroid camera,

i stand at the edge of the bed, matt gives me a tired smile and thumbs up, i snap the picture.

“thank you-“ i say with a small laugh, he rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“cmon, let’s get you nice and cleaned up.” i say to matt,

he nods with a small hum, followed by a massive yawn,

“you’re so tired sweetheart.” i laugh,

“how could i not beee..” he whines,

“i’m just teasing you.” i smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him up

he stands up on his feet before stumbling over, his legs basically jelly.

he flops backwards onto the bed,

“can you seriously not stand up straight.” i ask with a giggle.

“no- no i can!” he protests, heaving himself back up off the bed, but his shaky legs instantly give out.

i erupt into laughter,

“oh my god!! i’m gonna use that forever! imagine me telling people that i took away matt sturniolos ability to walk”

he covers his face with his hands as he laughs uncontrollably with me,

“you’re so insanely stupid” he giggles,

“tell that to me when you can stand up!!”

@downbad4reid @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris

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#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut

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monster-fuzz · 2 months

Text

The Wedding Dress

Update The 2nd - I debated putting this in the original post but honestly its getting way too long so new post!

I have blocked the skirt! And she was big, measuring about 1.95 - 2m in diameter:

Yes, that is hanging on the wall in my halfway - that was the only place I could leave her safely away from my toddler for the 3 days it took to dry. I'm am still working out a way of blocking the bodice and hanging the entire thing back up to dry without the weight of the skirt dragging everything down while it's damp. Most likely i'll stuff the skirt into a laundry bag and suspend it underneath somehow. Previously the skirt hit me right under the knee but post-blocking it sits low to mid-calf length:

I have yet to finish the underdress, it's happening, I'm just really not keen on cutting pattern pieces recently.

(Edit: for clarity - this is knit, not crochet :) )

#wedding dress #knitblr #lace knitting #fibre arts #fuzz posts #off topic #the post that has taken over my notes for the past 2 months

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tacticalprincess · 2 months

Note

when are we getting perv!reader who really just needs a good pounding and nerd!Konig who couldnt care less about pussy and just wants to talk about his silly little guns :(

canonically accurate nerd!könig… being so excited about getting the invite to his house, under the assumption that you’re finally going to be railed into the mattress until you can’t walk by the behemoth of a man you’ve been fantasizing about every night. to be pinned down by the biceps you’ve creamed around your fingers thinking about at long last.

you’re about to pull your top off, only for him to cut you off by opening the latch to the display case for his guns, ready to walk you through his impressive collection in way too much detail. he’s just happy to have a willing audience to pour all his lonely years of stored up knowledge into, oblivious to the way you aren’t soaking any of it up, fidgeting helplessly from your place on his bed as frustration and white-hot need fuzzes around your nerves. you’ve long since stopped contributing to the conversation; pretending that your eyes aren’t honed in on the way his large hands work expertly around the weapon, and the sizable bulge between his hairy, thick thighs was a mission that was quickly abandoned. he isn’t even hard, yet he’s probably the biggest you’ve ever seen, and the fact that he isn’t letting you put it to use is infuriating :(

you’re too cock starved to do anything but blurt out the truth when he asks why you’re being so touchy, trying to convince him that you’d be a much more attentive listener if you had a stuffed mouth. and he reluctantly obliges once the faux tears start flowing from your pretty eyes, too polite to turn down such a distressed girl in need. he takes pity on you, ridding himself of his belt and feeding you his soft dick as an apology. if you’re nice and quiet, he’ll let you fuck yourself to exhaustion on his length just so he can go back to his rambling while you’re too sated to do anything but listen… it’s not the most appropriate teaching strategy, but he has to get you to pay attention somehow!

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tootiecakes234 · 9 months

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Katsuki dating obliviously hot reader:

Characters aged up

Kinda smutty

Katsuki doesn’t even really see people in a hot or non hot way but then…. in walks you. The person that has him a blubbering, babbling mess. He thinks it’s insane, how fucking amazing you look all the time and it’s hard to control himself around you.

You’re at a party and you were dancing on him. In the middle of you pretty much dry humping him, Mina pulls you away from him and toward her. The thing is before he can hide it, she looks down at his groin and BAM

“Dude I can see your hard on through your pants.” And all your other friends turn around and start trying to see.

The blonde’s face now has a deep blush but he speak in an even tone. “Yea well yall would be too if someone as hot as Y/N was dancing on you. Too bad you losers get no play.”

He then rips you back outta Mina’s arms and spins you around so your back is to his front yet again. He has his dick placed snuggly against your clothes between your cheeks.

You guys are going out on a date and you’re bloated asf and nothing looks right. You’ve changed outfits like 4 times now and Kats in starvin.

He comes barging in the room and your in long sleeve shirt with a thigh length skirt and some cute shoes. You’re in the mirror adjusting and leaning towards a hell no when you hear him whisper under his breath, “damn”

“Do I look bad? I feel gross. Maybe we can get takeout and just stay here.”

“Gross? You gotta be fucking kiddin me. We are going to go out and I’m gonna be trying my damndest not to beat the shit out of the sea of guys that are gonna be eye fucking you and you’re calling yourself gross. Grab your damn purse and let’s go y/n.”

Well then. Guess you cant argue with that.

You’re at the gym together and you were both doing your own things. You’re on the treadmill when some guy comes up on the one next to you and starts talking.

It seems harmless enough so you engage him for a while until you get a text alert on your phone. When you check Kit Kat is on the screen so you open the message.

Kit Kat: come here.

That’s random so you look up to find where he is in the gym and discover hes near the weights. When you lock eyes with him, you see murder in his eyes.

Aww fuck. He’s pissed. You know your man is territorial, but damn.

You excuse yourself from the conversation you were only half heartedly invested in and walk over to him.

“Look it wasn’t-“ but your words are cut off from his lips pressing against yours and you feel his hand graze over your ass.

You’re glad the gym is half empty cuz damn.

“That idiots been looking at my ass in these tights since you walked in. I’m gonna have to put a fucking taken sticker on your forehead.”, he growled low next to your ear.

“Instead of all that, you can just put a ring on my finger.” You say smugly.

He chuckles at you, “yea that’s probably a better option.”

Katsuki Masterlist

@justbepeace

#imagine #bakugou x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #drabble #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki #bakugo headcanons #fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuku bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki smut #bakugo smut

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laumier · 16 days

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𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫. ⋆ 엔하이픈 hyung line.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: enha x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pwp-ish ?? , swearing , pet names, riding in jake’s, dirty talk, mentions of being in pain, suggestive in hoon’s hc, praises, hickeys, missionary

lala’s note. definitely doing this for atz. also, i got carried away with jake’s.. whoops :p.

⠀⠀⺀ LEE HEESEUNG.

the sun peeked through the beige colored curtains, signaling that it was well past 8am. you and heeseung remained in bed, bodies tangled together under the white sheets along with subtle touches from each other.

he was propped up on his elbow, leaning over you with his lips attached to yours. his hands roaming your body underneath the sheets. the sound of breathing and small moans filled the bedroom as the two of you still had a bit of adrenaline from the night before.

you threw your leg over his, pressing your body closer to his as he deepened the kiss.

“baby,” he whispered against your lips, leaning into your touch.

you hummed in response, somewhat distracted by the way he touched you.

“i need it..” his kisses traveled down to your neck, nibbling here and there. you hissed quietly, trying not to give into him seeing as this would’ve been the 5th time you both went at it.

“hee.. again? can we at least start the day first?” your laugh was cut short with a moan as heeseung found your sensitive spot, sucking a hickey there.

“can’t start the day without my daily honey..” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes when he mentioned the ‘honey’. it was a little name he had given your pussy. you remembered him saying that it was sweet and how sticky in between your legs would get whenever you were aroused.

“hee,” you whined, trying to push him away so you could climb out of bed.

“unhunh,” he protested with a grumble, his arm coming to lock around your waist so that you couldn’t move. he began shuffling his way under the thick duvet, giving you a mischievous smile. you squirmed around until he grabbed ahold of your thighs, holding them in his larger hands.

“just one more taste, baby..”

⠀⠀⺀ PARK JAY.

your back arched off of the bed as jay thrusted into you slow and deep, his length dragging against your soft walls. your moans were soft, but the sound bounced off of the walls making them seem much louder. jay grunted into your neck quietly, rocking his hips at a torturous pace.

the two of you couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, even with how many times you came the night before. jay was infatuated with you, just as you were with him. he wanted to show you that love all over again.

your nails clawed at his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as the stickiness between you both became messier.

“jay,” you gasped as his hips suddenly sped up, brushing against your g-spot. your mouth created an ‘O’ shape as you struggled to get any word out.

jay groaned, shivering when you clenched around him.

“fuck, i love you so much..”

you placed your hands on each side of his face as he picked his head up to look you in the eyes. you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, rough kiss.

jay found himself now pounding into you at a way quicker pace than before. the bed slightly creaked as the headboard hit the wall softly. if he had any self control before, it was definitely all gone now. you were just too irresistible to him.

your hand came down to where you and jay were connected, spreading your folds so jay could have more access. the squelching from your pussy became louder as jay dug deeper and you inched closer to the edge.

“deeper, babe, deeper..” you moaned out, unraveling your legs so you could spread them.

your high pitched whines only fueled jay, his hips now moving like they had a mind of their own.

you both wouldn’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.

⠀⠀⺀ SIM JAKE.

“fuuck, you feel too good,” jake threw his head back, his hands finding their way onto your hips. his long brown strands stuck to his forehead as his sweat dripped.

you lifted your hips up once more, his length sliding out of you, covered with cum and your juices. you took him back inside you, a hoarse moan escaping your mouth as you leaned down, pressing your chest against jake’s.

his hands traveled past your hips, gripping the soft flesh while guiding you up and down on him.

“mhm.. ride that dick like you need it, mama.” he hissed, landing a slap on your ass. you bit your lip, whining as he began thrusting his hips up to help you.

jake stared up at you in awe, eyes lidded and filled with love. he was addicted to you. you were almost like a drug to him. he was hooked.

“ja..jake,” you mewled. he didn’t respond at first, distracted by the way you moved against him. he shuttered, a whiny moan escaping his plump lips.

“jake.. i have… t-to get ready..”

he panted, shaking his head. he picked up the pace, your ass now slapping his thighs.

“nah.. just need you here with me..”

you began to slouch against him as you continued to whine. you tried to protest but your body still gave into him. your hips instinctively moved against his, giving you more pleasure.

he landed another harsh slap against your ass, earning a whimper from you.

“need you to cum all over me, baby.. keep putting that pretty pussy on me,”

jake’s words seemed to give you a sudden rush of adrenaline, making you forget about the shift you had in an hour.

⠀⠀⺀ PARK SUNGHOON.

you opened your eyes to see sunghoon’s back facing you as he sat on his side of the bed, probably still trying to wake himself up. you reached out, running your hand up his back, causing him to jump a bit.

you ran your nails down his back lightly, watching the goosebumps appear on his skin. he licked his lips, your touch bringing memories back from the sleepless night that you both had.

you sat up, the blanket falling of of your body as you moved to sit behind him. your hands traveled from his back to in front of him, sliding them down his chest slowly.

“g’morning..” your voice came out in a raspy whisper as you placed your lips right by his ear. you planted a kiss behind it, making your way down to his neck and shoulder.

he tilted his head to the side, giving you more access. your hands continued their actions, their movements causing sunghoon’s face to heat up. he was enjoying this too much.

“mornin’,” he mumbled, quietly hissing after, your kisses and nibbles making him weak.

your continued your wet kisses, making his breath hitch. he would’ve turned around and laid you out on the bed right then and there but he had things planned for the day. ‘things’ meaning his very demanding job.

“what’s planned for today?” you asked, your voice low and seductive.

sunghoon’s hand came to grab yours from his chest, bringing it to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to it.

“the usual. whatever the mangers have on the schedule.”

you hummed in response, hardly listening to whatever he said. you only wanted him and his body against yours so it was hard for you to focus on anything else.

“stay home, baby..”

“what?” he chuckled lightly.

“tell them you can’t make it..” you began kissing down his neck again, this time in all his weakest spots. your hands wandered all over him, making it hard for him to say no.

“y/n..—“

“please, hoonie? just want you to myself today.” your whiny tone was starting to turn sunghoon on. he exhaled, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.

“you’re lucky i love you.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

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#𝓵𝑎𝑙𝑎 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬.#enhypen x reader #enhypen hyung line #enhypen smut #enhypen suggestive #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fanfiction

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